My Future My Greatest Creation
by anneikenskywalker
Summary: Howard Stark's point of view on lessons learned and a future realized after Tony tried to take that piece off of the 1974 Stark Expo model.


Howard Stark smirked as he looked down to the large, round, grey saucer pavilion in his hands, turning it over as he studied it—the Astro-Aronautics pavilion in miniature.

Six hours earlier, he had caught Tony picking it up off of the table model of the 1974 Stark Expo during opening sequence filming that day. Maria and Tony had come to visit him at the office, trying to coax him away for dinner with them, but he had admonished that he was far too busy. The opening of the expo was in four days and the stress of planning it, plus work at the office had made it hard to focus enough to get the opening on film without any mistakes after a _very_ long day. He had already been on edge all evening—trying hard not to drink while the film crew was there—and, so, when he turned around in one of the shots that had _finally_ gone without a hitch and saw Tony across the model with the pavilion in his hands, he was much sharper with the boy than he had meant to be. After all, the thing wasn't broken—no real damage had been done and Tony willingly put it back un-phased. After that take, after Maria and Tony left, film crew or not and damn any appearances, Howard Stark had his first drink of the day—a record for him. 

Howard Stark had been many things in his life—genius, pilot, playboy, scientist, inventor….but, never in his wildest dreams had he expected that he would _ever _be a father. He had married Maria later in life, when the "playboy" lifestyle had suddenly ceased to appeal to him, but still, he had figured he was too old to be a father—that his time had passed on that front.

When Maria had presented him with the news of his impending fatherhood, though, he wasn't necessarily upset, surprised and shocked would better describe his reaction. Of course, given his own childhood, Howard had his doubts about raising a child of his own. But, as soon as he realized that this was something that Maria wanted, he firmly decided to keep any of those doubts to himself.

And true to fatherhood form, he had been there the beautiful fall day when Anthony Edward Stark was born, arriving from a meeting just minutes after the blessed event. "Right on time…" the smiling nurse had said in greeting when he rushed into the hospital maternity wing, nearly taking out two doctors and an orderly, out of breath and clearly disheveled.

And while the familiar affection for the infant was immediate, what _wasn't i_mmediate was his comfort with holding the squirming blanket in his arms. Men, he affirmed in that moment, were _not _built for child rearing—his own father surely hadn't been. He had also been the quiet and distant sort, an inventor and scientist, consumed by his work and his own vices. Still, he was always quick and willing to offer advice, education, and guidance as well as to dole out punishment to steer his willful son on the right path. But, never once in Howard's young life did he remember his father holding him or comforting him—kissing him? _Definitely not._

And early on, somewhere in his mind, Howard absentmindedly decided that when it came to Tony, he would follow that edict as well, though he would resolve to try to be kinder to his own son than his father had been to him. He would guide his son, yes, take an interest in his education and be there as the disciplinarian to make sure that the boy made his life into something great, but he would leave the touchy-feely stuff to Maria. It was a mother's job, after all—what she was meant for.

And so, when the "big moments" followed over the next six years, Howard worked hard to be there, 'Right on Time'—first steps, first words, birthdays, Christmases and school programs—diligently and willingly, though mostly quietly in the background, offering only a few words and keeping the calculating distance he kept with all people.

Within the first two years, he found that he _did_ care about Tony, Hell, he'd go far enough to say he loved the kid, though he didn't really see much of himself in the boy, even though Maria repeatedly noted, since the child was an infant, that Tony had inherited his eyes.

That was… until a few weeks before, when Maria left for the weekend to visit her ailing mother, leaving Howard alone for the first time with Tony, who was getting over the flu.

Maria had originally arranged for Consuela, the housekeeper, to be with Tony around the clock so that Howard wouldn't be bothered as he was working on an important project for SHEILD. But, the first day Consuela called in ill, having caught the boy's flu. This left Howard working from home, where he could consistently keep an eye on Tony. In the end, he spent more time with his son in those three days than he had in the past six years.

And during this time, he really got to know Tony—and not just by what Maria told him in passing at the end of his work day.

At first, their encounters were a little awkward and riddled with silence, but to Howard's, surprise, it didn't really matter to the boy. He just seemed happy to have someone stay with him. They watched baseball and hockey games together. Howard discovered that they both hated olives, but _loved_ ice cream.

But, the most amazing thing to him was Tony's mind— the capacity of it, the way he used it and the amount of knowledge the boy absorbed. Tony's teachers had commented early on this when the boy had started school, simply amazed at what the child could do and immediately recommended that he skip four grades… which he did.

Howard was both pleased and proud of his son and his accomplishments, but never more so, then those hours they had spent in Tony's room, building structures with his erector sets and talking about science and airplanes. Howard even pulled out one of his old college physics textbooks and read to Tony out of it, simply intrigued at the questions the boy instantly came up with.

It had been these moments and the incident with Tony earlier on in the day that had prompted Howard, before he left Stark Industries that night, to shrug off his suit jacket and turn on the camera left by the film crew.

There, in his office, alone, he would finally say what he had wanted to tell Tony, but couldn't to the boy's face.

That he was proud of him…

That he was his father's son…

That he had high hopes for his future…

That _he_ would most likely be the one smart enough and innovative enough to carry on Howard's life's work….

That he would change the world….

And as the projector slowly came to life, shedding light onto the dimly lit room, Howard Star walked into the frame toward the model of the 1974 Stark Expo, he gave a quick glance to the bar in the far corner of his office—debating on whether or not to have a drink.

It was always a constant struggle with him now.

He was afflicted…just as his father had been.

Howard closed his eyes to steady himself, then firmly decided that he wanted to be sober when he turned to face the camera and talked to the man his son would be thirty years from now.

And so, he pushed the idea of taking that drink out of his thoughts—turning them instead to Tony.

Then, leaning back on the table that held the model, Howard Stark finally turned and faced the camera, allowing his features to soften for the first time that day as he addressed his son.

"Tony," he said, in a kind, but adamant voice, "You're too young to understand this right now, so I thought I would put it on film for you."

Howard took a breath before gesturing toward the model behind him, remembering Tony playing with the structures and how he never should have been sharp with him—this was _his _future after all, what Howard had built as a legacy to those who would follow.

To those, bright, young minds that he now realized were epitomized in his young son.

"I built this for _you,"_ Howard continued, flashing a small smile at the screen, "And someday, you'll realize that it represents a lot more than just other people's inventions—it represents my life's work. This is the key to the future."

Then his mind wondered to the moments they had spent together that weekend Maria was out of town and how he had watched his son's small hands and mind work—building, solving, inventing—before adding, "I'm limited by the technology of my time, but one day, you will figure this out. And when you do, you will change the world."

Howard almost stopped there, but immediately, his mind pushed him to do something he almost never did…with anyone. And that was show any kind of emotion or sentiment.

He wasn't sure what possessed him, but soon he was telling his son what he had always wanted him to know—what he hoped he would realized thirty years from now, probably after alcoholism, long hours at the office and age between father and son would most likely drive them apart—as it did with Howard and his own father.

"What _is_, and always _will be_, my greatest creation …." Howard found himself saying in a voice riddled with soft emotion as he stared at his son through the film camera, "Is_ you_."

And Howard Stark watched as the film ran through to the end on the camera.

Six hours later, as he stood, staring at Tony sleeping soundly from the doorway of the boys room, he thought about the words he had spoken on film to the man his son would be in the future and he suddenly realized how true they really were.

_His son_ would be the future—his legacy. More than any invention, scientific theory or Stark Expo.

Howard hoped that his son would be like him in more ways than one…but, certainly, not all.

With this in mind, Howard shifted the model of the Astro-Aronautics pavilion his son had been so fond of in his hands and reached into his pants pocket, retrieving the permanent marker that he used for marking schematics.

After popping the lip off with his mouth, Howard turned the pavilion on its side and scrawled a message for his son on the bottom.

'THE FIRST RULE OF LIFE _AND _SCIENCE—DON'T EVER LET ANYONE TELL YOU WHAT TO DO. IF YOU WANT SOMETHING, YOU TAKE IT. LOVE, DAD'

Howard smirked as he replaced the pen cap and read the message back to himself, before placing the pen in his pocket and walking quietly into his son's room, laying the model gently on the bedside table, where Tony would surely find it in the morning.


End file.
